LustA Poem by EmilieYour voice is honey tipped With a hint of razors Interlaced with street slang And southern comfort As soon as you speak My temperature rises Your mouth, hungry for kisses Lures me in slowly Then devours me completely I admire the God’s are of your hands Chiseled rough But gentle if I want They can hurt me so much But I still yearn for their touch And that body couldn’t be more perfect Strong arms Shoulders broad Cut and covered like a true warrior Every time you explore my body You get closer to discovering me Weakening me with your drugs I have to yield It sounds like I’ve fallen hard No, not fallen High High on Lust © 2010 EmilieReviews
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2 Reviews Added on July 14, 2010 Last Updated on July 14, 2010 |